


Spinning Wheels

by mondobuki



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, F/M, Present Tense, Suspense, mondobuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mondobuki/pseuds/mondobuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neon lights are a blur.</p><p>Engines are revving. </p><p>Nothing but full throttle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spinning Wheels

_Sometimes you try to freeze time_   
_'Til those thoughts are a blur of spinning wheels_   
  
_But I am just a broken machine_   
_And I do things that I don't really mean_

 

* * *

Neon lights are a blur.

Engines are revving. 

Nothing but full throttle.

His buddies bop and bounce around. They're high on energy, high on life--

or something stronger.

But he is sober as he looks on with his arms crossed over his chest. He stands tall, with a wide open stance. He is their leader after all. Fearless? No. But a leader none the less. 

His solemn eyes land on her. She is leaned up against his bike waiting for the action-- waiting for danger, for speed. She flexes and stretches in preparation, and for a moment, his mind is no longer on the race about the occur. His thoughts are full of her. The smell of her hair, or the way that she laughs. The warmth that she exudes. But the night is icy and pulls him out of the depths of his memory with a harsh wind and the threat of rain. 

They're around him, pushing against each other to get at him--his buddies, his gang. 

"Is she really gonna race?" "She'll die out there." "You letting your girl race for you?" The remarks and questions come in a furious onslaught.

He is aware of the danger. But, when Mioda has made up her mind, you'd do well not to challenge it. 

"You bet your ass she's gonna race. Better than that, she's going to win!" His shoulders were broad and his voice was strong, but inside he was shaken.

_What if rain fell?_   
_What if the guys push too hard?_   
_What if... what if... what if..._

_No._

The boys brush off his answer and mount their steeds. 

With sweeping steps he approaches her. 

"Mioda," He faces her with a stern face. "Be careful. You don't have to win. You ain't got nothing to prove."

Her glinting smile melts his posture and before he knows it, he is mimicking her stance. Casual.

_"Mondo-chan. Ibuki's gonna be the best! just you wait and see!"_

Cheerful even in this weather, even here surrounded by his gang.

No fear in her eyes.

But, she could see it in his. She leans forward. Calm, cool, collected. 

Her lips press against the stubble of his cheek and linger for a moment. 

The smell of cologne and rain and sweat.

_Exhale._

He can't help but to smile. His hand brushes along her shoulder and down her arm in a gesture of assurance. And with that he is off to the front of the pack. He watches her from the head of the crowd as she straddles the bike with a wide stance. Only when he is sure that she is ready, does he begin to address the crowd before him.

"Alright, listen up assholes! You go on my mark. You know the drill! First one back here wins. Got it?!" He is loud and proud as a leader should be, but even he cannot hide the sense of nagging worry that lingers in the back of his throat. "Be careful out there." 

There is a moment before the excitement. A pregnant silence. He looks at his gang one by one. They are his friends, his family. 

Finally his eyes rest on her. He gives a slight nod-- more to comfort himself than to reassure her. 

The silence is suddenly replaced with the roaring of revving engines. 

_And they're off._

* * *

To no avail, he tries to mask the fear in his eyes. With each turn and curve his breath hitches-- a series of startled gasps.

This wasn't his first rodeo. This wasn't his hundredth. But, now that she was involved, now that her life was on the line, his senses were electric. A million synapses screaming and aching and waiting. 

The bikes are a blur as they pass each other. Infinitely close. One slip could be disaster. But she winds through them like a garden snake-- unscathed.

As she speeds along, the others fade into the cityscape, becoming nothing more than dots on the horizon. 

_She's fine._

_It's okay._

_Look at her go._

But, ahead of her. He realizes what is next. 

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_It's raining._

The same stretch of road. The same damn stretch where Daiya had fallen.  _  
_

_Fuck._

_Drip. Drip._

He had warned her. 

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Told her to take it easy. 

_Drip. Drip._

He couldn't lose someone else.

She comes around the curve too widely. 

Rubber frantically tries to connect with pavement. Frictionless wheels spinning and spinning, unable to gain traction.

The bike is horizontal, nearly parallel to the road. A mess of black hair whips wildly around as she begins to spill. For an instant he can see the _f e a r_ in her eyes. 

The harsh grating of metal against concrete rings out over the sound of the world.  

_And he runs._

_And he runs._

His shoes connect with the ground as if it was tar. Over exertion plagues his limbs. He's pushing to the limits.

It seems like miles between where he stood and where she fell. 

Time is a rubber band. 

It stretches and stretches but as soon as he reaches the scene

time snaps back

and moves in fast forward.

 

His heart beat can be heard for miles over the sound of honking cars and city things. The blood rushing in his ears and cheeks has enough pressure to knock a man down. 

Dizzy. Nauseous. 

" _Ibuki!"_

He bounds over the crashed cycle to the pile of girl a few feet away. 

Pushing through a gaggle of gawking gang members, he sees her. 

His throat closes. His stomach drops.

In an instant he is on his knees pulling her into his lap. 

"Talk to me." His voice is harsh and bristled. He brushes the multicolored hair from her face and her eyes flutter. 

His grip is tight on her arms, as if letting go would cause her to float off into the wind. 

His head falls-- too heavy for his tired neck. His face is close to hers. 

Were it not raining, surely his boys would be laughing at the tears beginning to streak his cheeks. 

  _"Don't worry, Mondo-chan"_

 

Her voice is in his ear. Her hot breath pulses over the ice of his skin. 

His face snaps up to hers. Eyes meet. The sorrow turns into relief. She is alive. 

_She's fine._

_It's okay._

_Look at her go._

 

_"Ibuki just wiped out. But Ibuki is a-okay!"_

She pushes herself up in an attempt to prove that she isn't broken.

Only scrapes, no breaks.

 

 

The silence of the crowd is blasted away by an eruption of cheers. The gang hoots and yelps about how cool the girl is-- how she would have beaten them, how she could have even beaten Oowada. 

"Jesus fuck." He exhales with a small chuckle.  Still, he is not convinced, but she is alive and for now that is enough.

He stands and carefully helps her.

Limping, she puts her weight on him and in one swift movement he hoists her up into his arms.

"Hey assholes," He calls over his shoulder. "My cycle better be back by the time I get there or someone is gonna get a knuckle sandwich! Understand?"  

She laughs and buries her face into his chest. A slight shiver quakes her body.

"Let's get you out of this rain." He walks hastily with long strides. 

"Ibuki _can_ walk you know." 

She pretends to punch his chest, but works her way tighter into him.

 

"I'm so proud of you. You scared the shit outta me, but I'm so proud." 


End file.
